Oh! who would cherish life, <br />And cling unto this heavy clog of clay, <br />Love this rude world of strife, <br />Where glooms and tempests cloud the fairest day; <br />And where, 'neath outward smiles, <br />Conceal'd the snake lies feeding on its prey, <br />Where pitfalls lie in every flowery way, <br />And sirens lure the wanderer to their wiles! <br />Hateful it is to me, <br />Its riotous railings and revengeful strife; <br />I'm tired with all its screams and brutal shouts <br />Dinning the ear;-away-away with life! <br />And welcome, oh! thou silent maid, <br />Who in some foggy vault art laid, <br /> <br />Where never daylight's dazzling ray <br />Comes to disturb thy dismal sway; <br />And there amid unwholesome damps dost sleep, <br />In such forgetful slumbers deep, <br />That all thy senses stupefied <br />Are to marble petrified. <br />Sleepy Death, I welcome thee! <br />Sweet are thy calms to misery. <br />Poppies I will ask no more, <br />Nor the fatal hellebore; <br />Death is the best, the only cure, <br />His are slumbers ever sure. <br />Lay me in the Gothic tomb, <br />In whose solemn fretted gloom <br />I may lie in mouldering state, <br />With all the grandeur of the great: <br />Over me, magnificent, <br />Carve a stately monument; <br />Then thereon my statue lay, <br />With hands in attitude to pray, <br />And angels serve to hold my head, <br />Weeping o'er the father dead. <br />Duly too at close of day, <br />Let the pealing organ play; <br />And while the harmonious thunders roll, <br />Chant a vesper to my soul: <br />Thus how sweet my sleep will be, <br />Shut out from thoughtful misery!<br /><br />Henry Kirke White<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thanatos-2/
